Ashes of Love, Flames of Justice

Name: Ashes of Love, Flames of Justice
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Gavin

Modern | Completed

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My phone buzzed on the counter of the vet clinic, a harsh sound, demanding my attention from a complicated case. It was Mark, my husband, sharp and impatient. "Chloe, drop whatever you' re doing. I need you." He needed his backup drive, for the biggest night of his career, a speech about 'sacrifice' and 'unwavering support', to impress his investors. I, his vet-tech wife, was racing home to fetch it, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. When I arrived, he was radiant on stage, spouting platitudes about family while I clutched the hard drive in the shadows, my stomach twisting. My phone vibrated: Dr. Reed, our son Leo' s specialist. "Chloe, the new treatment protocol is our best option, but we need to start immediately. The hospital requires a significant deposit." It was an unimaginable sum. I looked through the glass at Mark, laughing with investors, the hard drive forgotten. Leo and I were not in his world. In that moment, something inside me shifted. The long, slow burn of resentment ignited into cold, clear purpose. I wasn't going to wait for him. I wasn't going to ask him. I drove directly to sell my father' s classic Mustang – my most prized possession – for the cash. Returning home, a bright orange notice was slapped on our front door: NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE. My key wouldn' t work. My credit card was declined. I called Mark, his voice laced with fury. "Where the hell did you go? You embarrassed me, Chloe!" "The house, Mark," I whispered, trembling. "There' s a foreclosure notice. My keys don' t work." "I mortgaged it. Months ago. The startup needed a cash infusion," he sneered. "It' s gone, Chloe. My last-ditch funding failed because I was too damn distracted by all this drama with Leo. Your drama." Rain plastering my hair to my face, I sank to my knees. "We' re done," he said. "I told the bank to change the locks. You can get your things tomorrow." He hung up. Just then, Leo, pale and frail, opened the door. "Mommy? Why is Daddy yelling? Are we leaving our house?" His simple words cut through my shock. I pulled him close, whispering, "What if it was just you and me from now on? A new life. Would that be okay?" He nodded, trusting. That was all I needed.

Family Modern Betrayal Revenge Divorce

Chapter 10

11-03 22:37

Introduction

My phone buzzed on the counter of the vet clinic, a harsh sound, demanding my attention from a complicated case. It was Mark, my husband, sharp and impatient.

"Chloe, drop whatever you' re doing. I need you."

He needed his backup drive, for the biggest night of his career, a speech about 'sacrifice' and 'unwavering support', to impress his investors. I, his vet-tech wife, was racing home to fetch it, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

When I arrived, he was radiant on stage, spouting platitudes about family while I clutched the hard drive in the shadows, my stomach twisting. My phone vibrated: Dr. Reed, our son Leo' s specialist.

"Chloe, the new treatment protocol is our best option, but we need to start immediately. The hospital requires a significant deposit."

It was an unimaginable sum. I looked through the glass at Mark, laughing with investors, the hard drive forgotten. Leo and I were not in his world. In that moment, something inside me shifted.

The long, slow burn of resentment ignited into cold, clear purpose. I wasn't going to wait for him. I wasn't going to ask him. I drove directly to sell my father' s classic Mustang – my most prized possession – for the cash.

Returning home, a bright orange notice was slapped on our front door: NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE. My key wouldn' t work. My credit card was declined. I called Mark, his voice laced with fury.

"Where the hell did you go? You embarrassed me, Chloe!"

"The house, Mark," I whispered, trembling. "There' s a foreclosure notice. My keys don' t work."

"I mortgaged it. Months ago. The startup needed a cash infusion," he sneered. "It' s gone, Chloe. My last-ditch funding failed because I was too damn distracted by all this drama with Leo. Your drama."

Rain plastering my hair to my face, I sank to my knees.

"We' re done," he said. "I told the bank to change the locks. You can get your things tomorrow."

He hung up. Just then, Leo, pale and frail, opened the door.

"Mommy? Why is Daddy yelling? Are we leaving our house?"

His simple words cut through my shock. I pulled him close, whispering, "What if it was just you and me from now on? A new life. Would that be okay?"

He nodded, trusting. That was all I needed.